Christina grimaced as she pulled up her bra cups to cover her breasts. She still felt the asshole’s mouth and tongue on her, and his slimy saliva, and his rank breath. As she stooped to retrieve her shirt, she saw him looking at her and lashed out, striking his nose with the side of her fist. He moaned in pain, unable to move because of the iron grip Angie kept on the purse tied around his neck. “You bastard,” Christina muttered. She turned her back to him as she pulled on her shirt.
When the cops arrived, Christina was sitting on the counter between the sinks. There were two officers, a man and a woman, both with their guns drawn. The policewoman pushed the door open, took in the scene silently, then nodded behind her to her partner, who entered the bathroom after her. A pair of handcuff
